


gimme them gold coins

by queermccoy



Series: sugar [2]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Awkward Flirting, Bad Flirting, Bad Jokes, Coda, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dirty Talk, Dry Humping, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Kissing, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Morning Sex, Sugar Daddy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:15:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26539453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queermccoy/pseuds/queermccoy
Summary: Eddie’s phone pings again, interrupting his thoughts about how comfortable this bed is and how he can’t wait to be asleep in it tonight.im going to give it to u so good,Dick texts and Eddie snorts.Maybe just come up and we can sleep,he sends back, burrowing into the blanket and closing his eyes against the bright glare of his phone. He squints at his screen and pecks out,I have the room until the morning.Dick’s response is immediate. He says,We can cross cuddling off on the list!Eddie squints, glaring up at the ceiling. He isn’t wrong, but he wasn’t thinking about that at all. He just wants to sleep. He wants to be nice to Dick, wants to treat him well. The spreadsheet wasn’t on his mind at all.or, Eddie gets his first ever handjob.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: sugar [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1719793
Comments: 6
Kudos: 102





	gimme them gold coins

**Author's Note:**

> coda for the completed Twitter social media au sugar, found [here](https://twitter.com/sugarreddieau). This takes place during and between updates 88 and 89. title from off to the races by lana del rey. unbeta'ed.

Eddie is almost asleep when Dick texts that he is, finally, on his way over to the hotel where Eddie’s booked them a room. It’s only their second in-person meeting, but he works and Eddie understands. One day he’s going to have to cut it short or cancel because of work, he’s sure, so it’s only fair to bulk up on good will now when it’s Dick’s turn, especially since he was the one who switched days in the first place. 

**Ok its like 11:30 im sorry r u still up??** he texts, and Eddie taps his index finger against his phone case, thinking of a reply. He’s tired now and he doesn’t really feel up to a marathon of sex this late at night, especially with two official work days left in the week and projects that will extend far into the weekend. 

**No it’s ok! You couldn’t have known,** he types back, flopping onto his back from his side. He’s laying in the big, spacious bed he’s renting to fuck Dick in, but it’s okay if they don’t fuck tonight. Dick’s going to be tired after a longer than expected work day and Eddie is tired from dozing on and off all night. 

Eddie’s phone pings again, interrupting his thoughts about how comfortable this bed is and how he can’t wait to be asleep in it tonight. **im going to give it to u so good,** Dick texts and Eddie snorts. 

**Maybe just come up and we can sleep,** he sends back, burrowing into the blanket and closing his eyes against the bright glare of his phone. He squints at his screen and pecks out, **I have the room until the morning.**

Dick’s response is immediate. He says, **We can cross cuddling off on the list!**

Eddie squints, glaring up at the ceiling. He isn’t wrong, but he wasn’t thinking about that at all. He just wants to sleep. He wants to be nice to Dick, wants to treat him well. The spreadsheet wasn’t on his mind at all. 

He thinks maybe that’s a little intense though, more intense than Dick signed up for.

 **Oh yeah that’s true,** he finally texts back. He sucks in a heavy breath and exhales hard.

Eddie flings back the bedding, grimacing at the cold air outside of his blanket cocoon. He stands and straightens his clothes, now lounge rumpled, and finds his shoes by the door. He slides them on his bare feet. 

His phone buzzes in his hand and Dick says, **I am tired.**

Eddie yawns into his hand and types out with the other, **Yeah baby,** and feels his cheeks heat up when he calls Dick baby. He hasn’t done it to his face yet but the idea of calling him baby and seeing him smile at the name fills his chest with a bright, warm light. **just come over and we’ll go to bed.**

 **ok uber says ill be there in seven minutes.** It’s so weird to Eddie that Dick will type out ‘seven’ but not work at the proper grammar for ‘I’ll.’ Everything he does seems like a puzzle piece with smooth sides. He wants to ask. He wants to know. 

**Are you coming straight from work?** If he is, he won’t have any sleeping clothes. He should have something nice and clean to change into. He reaches for the door handle, checking his pocket for his wallet with the door’s key card before exiting. 

Halfway down the hallway to the elevator his phone pings again. Eddie looks down and laughs. Dick says, **Ive never cum straight in my life,** immediately followed by, **But yeah.**

Something occurs to Eddie while he’s riding the elevator down to the ground floor. He taps, **I’ll reimburse you for the ride** with both thumbs. He rapid-fire texts, **I think I should put my card info in your account so you can use it for rides.** So he doesn’t sound weird or desperate he continues, **I’m sorry I didn’t think of it before, it’s smarter and safer for you that way than what we did last time.**

Eddie steps out of the gilded elevator and walks into the lobby, phone in one hand and the other in his pocket with his shoulders thrown back. He walks with his spine taut, mouth set in an unpleasable line, something he learned from his mother. He turns all of this bluster onto the front desk employee, a small woman with neat braids. 

“What can I do for you, sir?” she says, looking up from her computer screen with a smile. Her name tag says, ‘Jean.’ Eddie pulls his hand out of his pants pocket and rests it on the lip of the desk. 

He says, “I’m looking for shirts, soft pants, something like that. My boyfriend forgot his pajamas.” It’s a lie, but it feels really good coming out of his mouth. 

“Oh,” she says, then leans in conspiratorially. “My girlfriend does that all the time.” 

Eddie blinks and grins at her without realizing it. His phone buzzes and when he glances down he sees that Dick has sent, **U dont have to.**

He looks at Jean apologetically before typing, **I want to,** because he does. He really does. It sends a thrill up his spine, spreads out over his shoulders and finally fizzles out at his fingertips. 

When Eddie looks back up, she is on the phone. Jean places one small, delicate hand over the receiver and asks him, “What size do you need? We have pants and t-shirts in our spa. I’ll have them brought up to your room and add the charges to your bill.” 

Eddie thinks for a moment, thinks about Dick and his shoulders and his barrel of a chest. Large, at least. Maybe extra large for comfort. He blinks long and hard, clenching his fingers on the desk before clearing his throat. “Extra large,” he says, finally. 

Jean nods and relays that information to whoever is on the other end of the line. When she hangs up, she folds her hands together on the top of the desk. Her nails are polished in a matte that matches the red of her uniform. “Anything else I can do for you, sir?” 

“No,” he says and then wipes his free hand in the air like he’s brushing away his answer. “Yes, do you have toothbrushes?” He has his own, in his work bag, but Dick will need one too. 

“Here you go, sir,” Jean says, bending to pull a plastic wrapped toothbrush out of a drawer in her desk. She slides it across the wood paneling between them. Eddie takes it and puts it in his pocket. 

“Thank you,” he says. He turns to leave, but pauses when Jean clears her throat. He looks back, eyebrows raised. 

“You and your boyfriend have a nice night,” she tells him with a radiant smile. He grins back and resolutely refuses to feel bad about his lie. He waves and then turns and walks back through the lobby, down the hallway, and presses the button for the elevator. 

Everything about this hotel is opulent and makes Eddie feel vaguely embarrassed for being seen in it. He’s a rich piece of shit, and he likes nice things. He likes his 800 dollar shoes on this carpet that’s clearly worth more than his first year of undergrad. He likes looking up and seeing himself in the crystal clear mirror of the elevator. He likes how the sheets feel when he lays in the beds here. He likes that he gets to share these things with someone else. With Dick. When he thinks about it like that, he isn’t so embarrassed.

The elevator comes and Eddie hurries inside, tapping the button for his floor three times, and then pressing hard on the ‘close doors’ button. He leans against the sparkling mirror on the wall and drums his fingers against its clean surface.

He doesn’t have a change of clothes with him, he wasn’t expecting to stay overnight. There’s a pair of briefs tucked away in his work bag, just in case, and a fresh shirt and a spare pair of pants at the office, in the side table next to his couch, and he plans to head in early enough that he can change unnoticed. He’s glad for his own anxiety induced foresight and hopes no one notices that his tie is the same tomorrow as it was today. Mike will absolutely never let him live it down if they do.

When he gets to his room, there is a small pile of folded clothes sitting outside his door. He scoops it up before pulling his wallet and keycard out of his pocket. He flashes the plastic, listening for the click, before opening the handle with his elbow. 

In his room, he leaves his personal items on the bureau and dumps the t-shirt and pants next to them. He straightens and brushes out the wrinkles. The fabric is soft under his fingers. 

There’s a knock on the door, and Eddie’s heart jumps in his throat. On his way to the door, he toes off his shoes. He remembers the toothbrush in his pocket and races back to the pile on the chest of drawers and flings it on top. He tugs at his shirt, even though it’s still tucked in, and walks to answer the door. 

Dick is on the other side, leaning against the doorframe. He isn’t trying to be cool, which is good because he doesn’t look cool. He looks exhausted, hair limp against his forehead and purple circles under his eyes. 

“Hey there, sugar,” he says with a smile. Eddie tucks his hand in Dick’s and pulls him inside, closing the door behind them. 

“I got you these,” he says, bringing Dick over to the bureau. He’s weirdly nervous for how Dick’s going to respond. He doesn’t think he’s overstepped their boundaries, just as long as he doesn’t find out Eddie lied and told the employee that Dick is his boyfriend. He’s pretty sure that could get him in trouble. He lets go of Dick’s hand. 

Dick touches the shirt and the pants, lips quirking when he picks up his toothbrush. “Thank you,” he says with a glint in his eye. Eddie flushes and glares at him. He’s such a shit. 

“Can we get ready for bed?” he asks, touching the clothes himself. Dick nods and Eddie moves away, over to the table where he’s left his work bag. He flips open the lip and takes out his toothbrush and his toothpaste. Dick follows him into the bathroom, ripping open the plastic on his toothbrush. 

Eddie wets his brush and squeezes the paste from the bottom. He hands it to Dick, who squeezes it from the middle. He would be annoyed by that, honestly enraged, if it had been anyone else. There’s something about Dick that makes it cute. He’s cute. 

They brush their teeth side-by-side. It feels nice. Eddie hasn’t done this with someone in a long time and never with someone he’d seen naked. He spits into the sink, rinses the bristles, and sets it out on the counter to dry, the end sticking out over the sink so nothing that goes in his mouth rests on the counter. 

Watching Dick, he leans against the far wall, arms crossed over his chest. His shoulders are just as big as he remembers, just as hot rolling under the fabric of his work shirt. Eddie wants to pull on the hair at the nape of his neck, bite at the skin where his neck connects with his shoulders and curl into the overwhelming warmth and size of him. 

He didn’t think his life would be like this, didn’t think this would be who he is, a man watching another man brush his teeth, feeling for all the world like there’s been a fire set under his skin, spreading through his body and burning up his insides. 

God, Dick is so hot. He’s so hot and Eddie digs his fingers into his crossed arms to keep himself from reaching out while Dick’s body is bent, while he rinses his mouth out with the tap. His back is expansive and irrationally, Eddie wants to sit on it, rub off on it, curl up behind it, run his hands up the curve of his spine. 

Dick stays bent over long enough to turn his head and smirk over at Eddie, whose arms press tighter against himself at the hot look in his eyes. Fuck. 

“Bed,” Eddie says, launching himself off the wall and back out into the main room. He stands, back to the bathroom, and starts to unbutton his shirt. He hears Dick come into the room but he doesn’t turn around. He’s being polite, for all that he was just watching him like he’s his food coming out at a restaurant. 

He pulls his shirt out of his pants and slips his arms out of the holes. He drapes the stiff blue cotton over the back of a chair. His undershirt goes over the back of a second chair. He reaches for his belt buckle and pauses. Behind him, Dick has stopped moving. Eddie peaks over his shoulder and catches Dick watching him. 

“Oh, hot stuff,” he says when he sees he’s caught, “I like how you’re made.” 

Eddie blushes, fingers fumbling at his waist. He jerks his pants open and off, hands a little shaky. He leaves his pants over a third and final chair, legs almost touching the floor. He’s cold in just his black briefs, goosebumps crawling up his arms. He turns towards the bed and keeps himself from covering his body even though he sort of wants to. 

He looks over at Dick, who has the pants on, shirt pulled over his head. His chest is out, hair on full display. Eddie’s mouth waters and he can’t avert his eyes, even when Dick’s head pops up through the hole, his hair is in disarray, glasses askew. The t-shirt falls over his belly.

Eddie crawls into bed and turns off the light on his side. The sheets feel even better against his skin now than they did when he was fully dressed. Dick slides in too, on the other side, turning off the other light and setting his glasses on the side table. There is light coming in through the windows, but otherwise, it’s dark. 

Sounds come from the hallway, from the rooms next to theirs, from the street outside. Eddie lays ramrod straight in the bed next to Dick, who’s laying rigid on his back with his hands down by his sides. Eddie moves his hand across the bed, between their bodies, and touches his fingers to Dick’s arm. 

“Okay?” Eddie asks, and when Dick murmurs in agreement, he curls his hand around Dick’s bicep and pulls him close. Dick comes easy, like he’s a ragdoll Eddie never had as a child because his mother never would have let him play with a girl’s toy. 

Dick falls against Eddie’s chest and they shift and shuffle and shove until Eddie is on his back, arms around Dick, who lays on his chest. His nose is precariously close to Eddie’s nipple, breathing wet, humid air out and over the bud with every breath. Dick makes a happy, contented noise that Eddie feels in his own chest when Eddie drops his hand on his hip and skirts it under the soft shirt. His skin is warm and dry and it feels like being outside, being on the beach, his face turned up in the sun. 

Everything about their positions is designed to make Eddie insane. He’s never in his life been so certain of his masculinity, sure of his own strength, and positive of his capabilities. He could lift a car right now, maybe. He could definitely tell Joe to go fuck himself, he isn’t interested in fantasy football or whistling at women in their work appropriate skirts. This makes him powerful. Holding this big, burly man makes him powerful. Dick is letting him and that sets a fire under Eddie’s belly. He feels like he could fight the sun. 

He falls asleep, his shoulders loose and his hands holding on tight to Dick.

***

Eddie’s alarm wakes him at 5:00 AM. There’s something smothering him, something hairy and heavy, and after a moment he recognizes Dick in the pale early morning light. 

Dick’s still laying on his chest, curly mop of hair the only thing Eddie can make out at this angle. It’s tickling his chest, catching in the sparse hair scattered across his breast bones. Dick sighs in his sleep and shifts, one of his legs sliding up Eddie’s under the blankets. His sleep pants are so soft against Eddie’s bare calf. Eddie looks down at that hair and runs a hand across the plain of Dick’s shoulders and smiles. 

He’s never woken up like this before, never woken up next to someone like this. It’s easy to feel warm, easy to breathe deeply and relax his body under someone else’s. Dick sighs again and moves, pulling away from Eddie’s hold on him. He doesn’t go far, pushing himself up on an elbow so he can blink at him blearily. He’s handsome, face in shadows in the reluctant morning light. He’s squinting, eyelashes long and lush and beating against his cheekbones. 

“I have no idea who you are without my glasses,” Dick croaks, ruining the moment, but making it into something else just as good. 

Eddie rolls his eyes, but yawns through his sour look. When he’s done, he looks down and Dick is yawning too. Nice to know that he isn’t in bed with a sociopath. Not that he thought Dick was, but you never know. Dick’s breath smells awful, but Eddie knows his must too so he tries not to overthink it. Dick reaches up one of his big, square hands and touches Eddie’s chin with his index finger. 

“Good morning,” Eddie whispers. He brings his own smaller hand up and threads his fingers through all that dark, curly hair. Dick hums and leans into the touch, drops his hand on Eddie’s face down to his chest, palm on his collarbone and fingers nestled in the crook of his neck. “You don’t have to get up. I just have to get to the office early.” 

Dick bites his lip and looks down at Eddie through his lashes. He blinks them coquettishly, almost a joke but also somehow not a joke at all. Eddie’s breath catches in his throat and Dick says, “I wanted to thank you for last night though.” 

“You really don’t have to,” Eddie rushes to say, not looking directly at Dick. 

“What if I wanted to?” Dick asks. He moves up Eddie’s body, face closer than it was. His breath is still gross, but it’s really not as bad as Eddie thought it would be. It’s weird how things that Dick does that would normally drive Eddie insane, don’t. He licks his lips, nervous. “Don’t you want to give me what I want?” 

Eddie’s stomach is in knots. Fire burns under his skin and his fight or flight response is flirting with anticipation in his gut. He’s turned on, he’s anxious, his hand in Dick’s hair clenches, pulling unintentionally at the soft strands. Dick closes his eyes and grunts, hips baring down. Eddie can feel Dick’s morning wood against his thigh and he feels like all of the air has been punched out of his lungs. He gasps and heaves forward, slotting their bodies flush together. Fuck. 

“Fuck,” he groans. Eddie can feel his own cock grow harder against Dick and he doesn’t mean to, but he grinds up and into the firm heat of him. Dick rocks back, breath coming in heavy pants over Eddie’s face. He grips hard at the juncture between Eddie’s neck and his shoulder, pulling him closer. Eddie goes without complaint, tugging Dick in by his hair. His other hand comes up and slides along his spine, rucking up his sleep shirt, the one Eddie bought for him, that he provided. His hands shake and he shudders, breathing shallow. Dick makes a soothing sound from high up in his throat and pets up Eddie’s neck, fingers moving into his hair. 

It feels so good. Dick feels so good, solid and present and working his hips in tandem with Eddie’s. His enthusiasm is catching, and Eddie has to work to keep up, cock trapped in his briefs. Dick’s is hard and thrusting into those soft pants and Eddie thinks again that he only has them because of him, because he gave them to him. He moans, too loud for the early morning hours and it rings through the still room. Dick giggles, breathless. 

“Is this as good for you as it is for me, sugar?” 

“Fuck off,” Eddie grunts before he can stop himself. He blushes, but Dick just laughs again, nosing along the dimple in Eddie’s cheek. His lips drag behind it, leaving wet kisses in their wake. 

“Yeah,” he tries again. “Yeah, this is good. You’re so good.” Eddie is panting, rutting up against Dick’s leg like a dog, frantic. 

“Oh,” Dick sighs. He pushes hard into Eddie’s thigh, boosting him up the bed, tangling the sheets, slamming his head into the headboard, thankfully cushioned by the incredible hotel pillows. 

“Fuck,” Eddie whines, and pulls hard on Dick’s hair without meaning to. “You like that?” 

Dick shifts, moves so their cocks are lined up through their clothes and grinds down, slow and filthy. “Yeah, I guess so,” he says with a laugh. Eddie laughs too. Before Dick, he’d never laughed during sex. 

“Well, you’re doing really great,” he says, trying to play along. He means it, obviously, but the words feel awkward in his mouth now that they’re on purpose. Dick chuckles and tugs on Eddie’s hair. 

“Aw shucks,” he giggles into Eddie’s neck, breath hot and fanning out. Eddie wraps his leg around the back Dick’s thighs, drawing him in, dragging their cocks together. The friction is deliriously good, distracting and it sends fire ripping through his veins, boils his blood. His leg pulls Dick in tighter, holding him in place. 

“You feel amazing,” Eddie tells him, blushing furiously but more secure than he was, coming into the moment. “You are doing such a good job making me feel good, baby.” 

Dick moans, hips stuttering. “Thanks,” he breathes with the cadence of a joke, but Eddie’s cock doesn’t get the memo and his hips rocket up hard, his eyes rolling back into his head. He feels Dick’s lips on his throat and his toes curl under their sheets. 

“Fuck, Dick,” Eddie cries out, fingers in Dick’s hair clenched hard. “Baby, come here.” He forces Dick’s head down, kisses him gently in thanks, everything in him shouting that this is right, this is exactly right. Dick fucks his hips down and Eddie fucks his hips up and they meet gloriously in the middle. Eddie’s briefs are sticky and cling to his cock. It should be disgusting, but it’s not. It’s not at all. It makes him hotter. 

Dick kisses Eddie like his mouth doesn’t taste like trash, which he appreciates. He slides his tongue against Eddie’s and sends shivers down Eddie’s spine. With clawed hands, Eddie digs his blunt fingernails into those broad shoulders, making Dick lurch and groan. The bed springs don’t squeak because this is a nice hotel, but the headboard bangs against the wall and the sound of it, the sound of them, is overwhelming. 

“Sugar, I--” Dick chokes and interrupts himself, gasping. When Eddie looks at his face, his eyes are closed and his lashes are damp. His mouth is slack and his cheeks are rosy. The blush runs splotchy down his neck and into the collar of his t-shirt. Eddie slides his hand up his back as far as it will go, tugs on his shirt until he can spy down it, can see more of that flushed red skin. Eddie wishes Dick was naked. 

“Yeah, baby, come on,” Eddie encourages, canting his hips up. He scratches his fingers against his scalp and kisses his face, under his eyes and on his forehead. “Perfect, this is perfect. You are perfect.” 

Dick is all wrapped up in Eddie’s clinging limbs. His face is gorgeous, red and shining, and Eddie bites his lips looking at him, affection and arousal welling up inside his chest and frothing in his guts. His skin burns everywhere they’re touching. Dick makes a guttural sound that Eddie chases out of his mouth with an uncoordinated, messy kiss. 

“I’m gunna--” Eddie skates the hand on Dick’s back down the dip of his spine and tucks it into the waistband of his sleep pants. He palms the fleshy curve of his hip, runs his fingers through the curls at the base of his cock. He tugs on them, drawing a breathy moan from Dick that stokes the fire in his belly. “Can I--?” 

“Yeah, please. Yeah,” Dick breathes and then whines when Eddie wraps his hand around his cock. Fuck, it’s fat and heavy and it makes his mouth water. His hot skin moves under Eddie’s fingers, the tip sticky and wet. It’s making a mess of the inside of his boxers and Eddie uses that to ease the slick slip and slide of his fingers over Dick’s cock. It’s an awkward angle, but he makes it work.

“You’re so hot,” Eddie tells him. Dick groans, embarrassed, and blushes a deeper red. He tries to hide his face in the crook of Eddie’s neck, but he doesn’t let him. He pulls on Dick’s hair to keep his face up, so he can look at him. 

“Fuck, Eddie,” Dick keens. He’s so whiny in bed, voice high a reedy and maybe it shouldn’t be sexy but it is. It is sexy. His hips jerk and he thrusts into the circle of Eddie’s fist and Eddie wonders what it would feel like to have those hips slapping against his ass, this cock fucking in and out of his lube slick hole. The mental image is so strong, so _good_ , and Eddie wants it. Not right now, but someday. Dick’s body under his while he uses his cock to get off, Eddie’s fingers curled in his thick chest hair; Dick’s body covering him and holding him down, big hands pressing down on his shoulders.

Eddie cannot believe he ever thought he was straight. 

He would laugh, but he’s busy. He’s busy working his hand over Dick’s hard cock, kissing Dick’s swollen lips. Eddie pushes Dick into his fist with the leg flung over Dick’s thighs, bucks himself against Dick while jerking him off. The sun is rising, casting yellow light over their bodies in this luxurious bed. Dick comes with his damp eyelashes glittering in this early morning sunshine. 

There’s a wet, sticky load in Dick’s boxers, Eddie’s fingers painted with his come. His face is blissed out, mouth open and head thrown back. His Adam’s apple bobs and Eddie kisses his throat, up his neck and across his cheek. He plants a kiss on Dick’s tacky forehead, breathing heavily. Dick’s hand in Eddie’s hair yanks hard, unintentionally, but it sends shockwaves of pleasure down Eddie’s spine and pools behind his cock. 

Eddie is still stroking Dick through his aftershocks when he feels Dick snatch his hand from Eddie’s hair and shove itself into his briefs. “Oh, fuck,” he says. His dirty hand in Dick’s boxers squeezes too hard on his spent cock and Dick hisses. 

“Sorry, sorry!” he exclaims and Dick laughs wetly against his throat. He bites Eddie’s shoulder and it makes him see stars. 

Carefully, Eddie pulls his hand out of Dick’s underwear and holds it, fingers curled and dripping, on the pillow behind Dick’s head. His hips stutter against Dick’s tight fist, wet with Eddie’s precome and stroking him with quick, hard jerks of his wrist. Eddie’s hand in Dick’s thick hair falls to his broad shoulders and he clings to him, trapping his arm between them when he clenches his leg across Dick’s thighs, tugging him closer. 

“I wanted to thank you,” Dick says, almost conversational except for the way he’s panting, moving his body against Eddie’s. 

“For what?” 

Eddie’s chest is bursting, sparks shooting down and out through his limbs. He’s amazed he hasn’t set the bed on fire. The morning light makes Dick’s blue eyes shine, clear and pretty and smiling. Dick rubs his thumb over the slit in Eddie’s cock and says, “For the shirt and the pants. Thank you for them and for this room. It’s so nice, you’re so nice, giving me such nice things.”

Dick presses in impossibly closer. Eddie can feel his chest against his own, the soft fabric of his sleep shirt catching against his nipples. Everything feels so good, overwhelming, different than it felt being inside of Dick. His fingers are thick and long and clever, caressing Eddie’s cock. He’s so close, he’s going to come. He’s so close. “This is for the clothes, this is for the room. I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel,” Dick murmurs against Eddie’s cheek, lips moving against his skin. Eddie flushes but thrusts up into Dick’s fist, fucking his hand. 

“Thank you, sugar,” Dick says and it’s void of all the usual joking his tone would have at the endearment. His voice is soft and breathy and _honest_ and that’s what does it. Eddie comes so hard, clutching at Dick’s shoulders and his pillow, hips pressed into Dick’s hand. 

“Oh, shit. Fuck, Dick,” he curses, eyes squeezed shut. 

“You’re good.” Dick drops down from his elbow, falling onto this back. He drags Eddie with him, hand from his cock grabbing at his thigh to move him in sync. “I’ve got you,” he says and Eddie nods, forehead rubbing against Dick’s shirt, gasping. 

“Yeah, I’m glad we didn’t do that at the office,” Eddie says when his heart rate slows and his limbs stop shaking. Dick pulls his hand out of Eddie’s briefs and he can hear him wipe it off on their warm sheets. It’s disgusting, but Eddie will make sure to tip well on his way out in apology. 

“You’re one noisy nelly,” Dick agrees, patting the top of Eddie’s head. It’s a sweet gesture and Eddie kisses the curve of his tit through his shirt in retaliation. 

“I have to get ready for work.” Dick groans and wraps both arms tight around Eddie’s middle, rocking him against his body. 

“No!” Dick draws out the ‘o’ in ‘no,’ howling like a cartoon wolf. “Stay with me.” 

“I can’t,” Eddie laughs, warm and bubbly, slapping at Dick’s wide bicep. “I have to work so I can afford you, baby.” He blushes when he says it, because it’s not as smooth as it sounds over text. It’s easy to be the big bad earner that way, but harder like this. He cranes his neck up and plants a kiss to Dick’s chin. 

“Well, if it’s for me, I guess you can go,” Dick says, dramatically and in an accent Eddie can’t quite place. He flings an arm off Eddie and smacks it to his own forehead, neck turned and eyes shut. What a card. 

Eddie crawls off of him, hand holding Dick’s until he’s too far away from the bed to hold on any longer. In the bathroom, Eddie peels off his briefs and tosses them into the bathroom trash. After checking the hotel’s soaps to make sure there’s nothing in their make up he’s allergic to, he turns on the shower as hot as it will go and steps inside. He washes quickly, making sure to shampoo not only the hair on the top of his head but also the hair at the base of his cock, cleaning out all of the come sticking to his pubes. 

Squeaky and clean, Eddie twists the knob and shuts off the water. He wraps a plush white towel around his waist before using his toothbrush from last night to clean his teeth. He carries it with him when he walks out of the bathroom, steam billowing in his wake. 

In the bed, Dick is asleep again, cute and spread out like a starfish under the blankets. His boxers are crumpled at the foot, and Eddie expects that he took them off but put his sleep pants back on because they are nowhere to be seen. His curls fall over his face and Eddie’s fingers itch to reach out and brush them back. Instead, he sneaks around the room as quietly as he can, tugging his spare underwear out of his work bag and sliding them up his legs, tucking his toothbrush away. He left the toothpaste in the bathroom for Dick to use when he gets back up. 

His clothes are where he left them the night before. Eddie puts them on, pants open at the waist until he can button up his shirt. He rolls on the deodorant he keeps in the same pocket of his work bag as his toothbrush, pushes in his shirt tales, and closes his pants. Before pocketing his wallet, keys, and his phone, Eddie leaves three twenties on the dresser pinned under the lamp. He writes on the hotel stationery that it’s intended for the cleaning staff, trusting Dick to leave it for them. He gathers up his tie and his work bag, slides on his loafers, and walks to the door. 

Biting his lip on his way out the door, Eddie looks back over his shoulder. He watches Dick sigh in his sleep, clutching tight to Eddie’s pillow and snuggling his face into the rich cotton. God, Eddie misses him already. 

In the elevator, Eddie shuffles his belongings around in his arms, slings his bag over his shoulder, so he can pull his phone out of his pocket. He avoids looking at himself in the mirror and swipes open his screen. Painstakingly, he types out, **Hey just a reminder that check out is at 11.** The elevator dings and comes to a stop. The doors open and a woman in a tan jacket steps inside. She nods good morning, and he nods back. He shrugs his shoulders up by his ears and can’t help but add, **I had a really nice time last night.** He doesn’t want Dick to think he only wants him for sex. He does want him around for sex, but he also likes him.

**I’m sorry I had to leave so early,** he types out, because he is. The elevator doors slide open at the ground floor and he and the woman spill out into the empty lobby. He trails behind her, still looking at his phone screen. He agonizes about what to say next, worries about saying too much and not enough at all. Eddie decides to follow up with, **Good morning,** and calls it good, pocketing his phone. 

The sunshine is bright in his eyes when he walks out of the hotel. A blinking clock face hanging off of a nearby bank tells him it’s a little after 6:30 AM. He has plenty of time to make it into the office and change before the start of day. 

For the first time in years, maybe for the first time ever, Eddie whistles on his way to work. 


End file.
